Xenial Addiction
by Deida
Summary: Of course, they were together! Pickles had seen them together almost as often as they used to be, but it hadn't really clicked in his mind before he saw it with his own eyes. He was too late... He had lost the one thing that mattered in this messed up world... For good. Sequel to "Only For The Drummer", "Zeroes and Ones", and "Crossing You Out", recap inside.
1. Denialklok

In "_Only For The Drummer_", Pickles met Scout Ofdensen, the teenage daughter of Charles Ofdensen, sent to live in Mordhaus with her father after her mother's death. After a delayed courtship, Pickles finding it difficult to come to terms with seeing not only the daughter of Ofdensen but a depressed teenager, they come together for the first time at her mother's funeral. Their secret relationship climaxed at the beginning of Dethklok's world tour in London, with the discovery that she was pregnant in "_Zeroes and Ones_". Stumbling into the room while she was having her first ultrasound taken, Pickles panicked and fled, leaving Scout alone to deal with everything by herself. "_Crossing You Out_" explores the feelings Scout develops for Skwisgaar after Pickles broke her heart, however she comes to no solid conclusions. Pickles, after kicking his brother's ass for calling Scout a whore (due to her remaining mum on the identity of the baby's father), reflects on why he had acted the way he did, effectively making them both suffer, and Charles remained unable to accept that his daughter has made the same mistakes he did, blaming himself for neglecting her after her mother's passing.

Aside from Pickles and Skwisgaar, no one had a clue as to the identity of the father of Scout's son, the young mother refusing to give up a single shred of information. It destroyed her when Pickles had left that hospital room without a look back, not a meaningful word exchanged since, but she didn't tell a soul that he was the father. She didn't even try to approach him about it at all, though in all fairness, she was too hurt to even look at him when they passed each other in the hallway (their rooms unfortunately right next to each other) or were in the same room at the same time. Crazy as it was, she loved him too much to drown him in all the problems that would arise, both legal and personal, so lonesome as it was, she kept the truth to herself. Skwisgaar didn't like it, but he understood what she was protecting him from, so he kept the secret for her. Rejected by the girl and observing from afar their rather obvious relationship, he had concluded that Pickles was indeed the father, and still, that didn't stop him from developing feelings for the girl. While he was unsure about whether or not it was the rebuff or something real, she was equally confused about if she liked him or if it was the hormones speaking.

To be honest, with all the stress, it was a miracle that the pregnancy had gone as well as it did, the baby healthy with no serious complications...

**- Metalocalypse -**

A little under two months had passed since the birth of Nathan Explosion's Godson (Jesus, he was getting old), the newborn's mother's birthday looming ever closer. Forgetting that milestone for a minute, the gruff front man had been an easy pick for the teen mom as a replacement should the worst happen, his heroic actions at her mother's funeral not forgotten. There was also the fact that aside from her considering him to be like an older brother, he was the father's best friend (not that Pickles gave two licks about her or their son so far as she knew). The only downside to her choice was his life style, his questionable life span, and in picking Nathan as her first choice, that left Toki as a secondary back-up. She loved him dearly, viewing the older man as the little brother she never had, but there was something not quite right about him. More so than the others. It wasn't bad enough to keep him out of the running, but it was enough for her to chose Nathan without much opposition. In all likelihood, should tragedy strike and Pickles not claim the boy, he would probably go to Toki anyways, because she couldn't see Nathan changing much about his life to take care of a child (at least, that's what Scout told Toki when she announced that Nathan would be her son's Godfather).

Getting back to the matter at hand, Scout's 18th birthday was just around the corner, Toki once more planning an extravagant affair for Dethklok's little sister. The baby-shower, apart from being the day she had her son, was more or less a great party, unfortunately soured somewhat by the families. Regrettably it was the same day that she accidentally told Pickles that she hated him, which couldn't have been further from the truth if you paid her, but she felt as if he was compensated by her (what she felt to be) guilt-induced labor. Before the breaking of the water, she had every intention of going to him (which was something they had equally avoided in the months after the hospital fiasco) and apologizing for her words, but baby had other intentions, and had made her suffer through thirteen hours of labor (which she had to face without any drugs, thanks to her father). But it wasn't all bad; Scout had met her son, Charles had made up with his conscience (or had at least shoved the fight back for the time being) and had started to act like a father to his daughter, holding her hand through it all, and Skwisgaar had decided that he had been living in the middle-ground for too long, so one way or another, he had chosen to take action.

Once the room had been cleared out of the peanut gallery, the families gone back to Mordhaus and the band with Charles, the baby with the doctors and such, Scout was exhausted and probably at her most vulnerable, so he decided that it was the perfect time to act. Not so much for her, but... Making his move on her, suddenly falling on her like a golden bird of prey, she reciprocated the gesture (both still uncertain as to what drove them on a deeper level), and the rest was history, so to speak. What they didn't know, even to this day, was that they weren't alone...

**- Metalocalypse -**

Drowning - almost literally - in the bleak void of his despair, numbed and nearly blinded by Scout's words, her voice ringing in his ears, he left the room and the people in it (departure unheeded as they coddled Seth, and in the band's case lamented that they weren't privy to the entire scuffle). Crushed by the words he never thought she'd say, his world falling away piece by piece, vision fading to a haze, everyone he saw blurred to the point where they weren't even human anymore, but gross hairless parodies, skinless in some cases, snarling violet venom and chanting eerily 'she hates you', 'over', 'die', 'another', 'kill him'. Again and again it repeated, her voice growing colder, more distant with every syllable, face receding in his mind, dimming as her light was called away, leaving him in the darkness, making him realize just how dark it had been before. Before she had said that she despised him. Before she had come into his life...

Stumbling his way through the next couple of hours, only vaguely aware that there was some kind of a panic and that the entire populace of Mordhaus had moved to the hospital, Pickles stood back at the edge of it all, called back to the real world by the sounds of a baby crying. Not just any baby, he knew, but his son. Instinctively, he wanted to go to Scout's side, to hold their creation, to beg her to take him back, but with all the people in the room, and the pain he had made her go through alone, he knew that he couldn't, that he had no right to do as much, to think that he still had a chance. He had blown it...

Stepping out of the room, slipping away before his resolve crumbled, he left her sitting in a hospital room alone once more...

No, he couldn't do that to her, not again! He refused to knowingly make the same mistake twice in less than a year (or at all as far as Scout was concerned). Living these past few months the way he had, without her, without her smile when she first woke up, without her arms around him when she fell asleep, having only glimpses of her from what felt like an insurmountable distance, it just wasn't right, and far from what he wanted. Could he say that he loved her? Maybe not, but he was sure of one thing: He couldn't live without her for even one more day. This sub-par thing he was doing wasn't enough to sustain him any more...

Waiting for the others to weed themselves out, pacing back and forth in the hallway as he thought of what to say to her, struggling to find the right words, Pickles entered the room right as Skwisgaar showed Toki out. At least if the blonde had came back, he was in the know enough to respect that the drummer needed some space to speak his mind. Almost spied by a nurse and told out as Scout was assisted into the bathroom, the drummer ducked behind the curtains on the other side of the bed, taking cover so he could speak to her once the nurse was gone. The woman was shorter than he was and about twice as wide, but she seemed formidable (it was probably her hawk-like beak of a nose).

However, Skwisgaar had come back into the room as the portly woman was finishing up with the patient, far enough into the proceedings to be allowed to remain, and he had started right for Scout once he thought that they were alone. She might not have seen it coming being too close to the situation, but to him, watching from behind the swaying wall, it was perfectly clear what the Swede had on his mind. Biting his lip to keep from crying out, his voice probably dead in his throat anyways, Pickles watched helplessly as the other man bent in over the bed, quickly kissing the startled girl. She seemed to fight it for a second, if she fought it at all, before kissing him back. Whatever surprise she had at being kissed vanished as her lips melted into the Swede's, her grey eyes closing as she let the feeling envelope her. And there it was again, that searing pain in his chest as his heart was withered further.

Of course, they were together! He had seen them together almost as often as they used to be, but it hadn't really clicked in his mind. Even though Skwisgaar was Skwisgaar, she was heartbroken, and... Who was he kidding? He had seen it at the party, the way he had handled her from the room to be alone, to keep from him so she didn't do anything stupid. Burning with jealousy and unable to live under the shield of denial anymore, he had to face that Scout was with Skwisgaar now, and she probably had been for quite some time...

He was too late...

He had lost the one thing that mattered in this messed up world...

For good.

** - Metalocalypse -**

Getting back to this party business, only a big deal because it meant that Scout would no longer be a minor and therefore legally be able to do whomever she wanted to (and vice versa), Toki had the whole place in an uproar, personally over-seeing everything so that he could make sure it was perfect. This party had to outshine all the other dildo parties that the big names threw, but because it was Scout, it also had to be classy, which meant suits and fancy wine glasses. Well, fancier. He was also importing a custom-made dress especially for her to wear at the party, not that she knew that. The real problem, however, wasn't with the wrong shade of streamer or the music selection as she ascended the staircase - it was the time-bomb that lurked just down the hall.

Pickles had been devastated by what he had seen in the hospital room, worse than what he already was, and in order to balance that out, he had began to drink three times as hard. And the one person that might have noticed this was either too busy changing diapers and being a mother or locking lips with a certain guitarist to see the danger signs. Had she not moved on so soon... Well, it didn't matter, because the bomb was set. The only question that remind was how far was the fall out going to strike?

* * *

**Disclaimers:**

I do not own Metalocalypse.

I do own Scout, her mother Ravenia, and her son.

I do not condone the actions that may or may not take place throughout the course of this story, including but not limited to language, sexual content, drug use, and any illegal activities involving minors.

Swedish provided by Google Translate.

REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

**Author's Note:**

Wasn't planing on it happening this way, starting up a new fic, but it seemed the most logical conclusion (or at least at the time). As for the cover, I was kinda impatient to get it up, so it came out looking like crap. I swear, either I rush it and comes out not even worth it, or I take a freaking year! Pft. Well, anyways, this is the cover, until/if I make a better one. Oh, and the title? "_Xenial Addiction_"? For those of you not versed in botany (such as myself), xenia is a term that, according to an online dictionary, means "the influence of the pollen upon the form of the fruit developing after pollination", or what I take to mean as the "pollen" that affects the "fruit" after "pollination". Overly explained? Maybe. Carry on then.

Seriously, the review button doesn't bite, just for the record...


	2. Dethcomparison

Gleaming dangerous and silver-black in the soft lamp lght, the crib gifted from Dethklok sat still across from the bed in the shape and design of a lily-pad, spikes shelling the outside posts (of the crib, not the bed). Snuggled inside, covered in blankets of blood-red and bunnies, was Trent Andrew Ofdensen, born eight point two pounds and nineteen inches, his full head of vibrant red hair poking out beneath a coal-colored cap. Were he awake, his eyes would have been a bright green, identical to his father's eyes. Even though it broke her heart to look at her son, reminded of Pickles more than ever, Scout couldn't have imagined a more perfect little being. Her precious little Trent. She might not have given him the best possible start (depressed enough over being abandoned to seriously debate living), but she vowed to give him the best life possible (even if that meant staying in Mordhaus after she had came of age). It was a brutal place, but they would be well looked after, and maybe, even if he didn't say another word to her, Trent could have his father in his life (or four father-figures anyways).

Oh, God, what would she tell him about his father? The truth? That he was dead? Her mother had told her that her father was dead, and she believed it. Scout knew what it felt like to be lied to her entire life, and she couldn't imagine doing that to her own son, but what could she tell him? _Oh, son, by the way, your father is living in the same house as us, but he refuses to take part of your life. _Yeah, that would go over great. _Trent, you know how all the other kids have two parents? Well, you do too, but when daddy found out mommy was going to have you, he turned into a completely and total bastard _(she would clean it up when telling him)_ and he left us. Oh, by the way, it's Pickles. _The one guy in Dethklok that avoids us like the plague. Shaking that thought from her head, Scout realized that she still had some time to figure it before he would start asking her those kinds of things. Like maybe six months after Trent learned to talk. She would figure it out by then. Hopefully.

Leaning over the crib, eyes roving over the squishy pink face nestled comfortably between the white, bunny coverlet and the snug grey beanie, Scout ran the back of her hand across Trent's plump cheek, smiling down at him. She had put him down about twenty minutes ago, just long enough for her to slip out of her drawstring drawers and into her jeans. So busy with being a mother, Scout hadn't seen Skwisgaar in a while, and when he had texted her to come see him, she knew she couldn't say no, so calling in one of the Klokateers hired specifically to help with the baby, she changed, planning on keeping her appearance brief.

Turning around to face the masked woman waiting in the middle of the room, Scout said for the twenty-seventh time, "I just put him to sleep, so he shouldn't be too much trouble, and if he wakes up-"

"I'll be callin' on ya, Mistress." She said reassuringly, her Scottish accent thick and unbroken.

The brunette nodded, "Thank you, Number 4128, really. I shouldn't be too long, maybe an hour or two if I can escape... I mean, if my presence is no longer necessary. Maybe I can even get back here in forty-five minutes!"

It wasn't that she wasn't looking forward to seeing him, but he only wanted one thing, and she was just too tired from taking care of her son to give it to him...

**- Metalocalypse -**

Poised outside of Skwisgaar's room, careful to duck round corners and stick to the shadows so she wouldn't be seen going to visit the resident Adonis of Metal, Scout knocked on the door hesitantly, thinking to herself that she was just going to tell him that she couldn't stay. She was flattered, but she just couldn't do this right now, no matter how much she wanted to. And after almost an entire year of a dry spell, she really, really, _really_ wanted to indulge him, but she just couldn't right now. Just before her imagination could cook up what it might be like with him, the door flew open, and Skwisgaar appeared, a slight smile playing across his lips at the sight of the girl.

"Is was thinks-ings yous would not come," He opened the door wider, revealing what he wasn't wearing, making her blush, and pulling her into his arms, he kissed her on the spot, wiping her mind a blank, "Whys don'ts yous come in?"

Dazed, she nodded, stepping into the brightest room in all of Mordhaus, completely forgetting the speech she been about to give him, "I'm glad you sent for me," Wait a minute, she had wanted to tell him something, but what was it? Trying to remember, she allowed herself to be swept to the bed, "I'm sorry if I kept you waiting..."

Sitting her down, massaging her shoulders and kissing her neck, he knew that if gave her the chance, she would probably change her mind about finally letting him up to bat, "Om du verkligen mår dåligt om det, kan du göra det upp till mig (If you really feel bad about it, you can make it up to me)."

Cracking a smile, kissing his jaw, she returned, "Och hur är att jag undrar (And how is that I wonder)?"

He merely raised his eyebrows at her, gently easing her back to the mattress with his tongue...

**- Metalocalypse -**

Standing in the middle of the spacious room, men and women in black hurrying back and forth with various decorations and instructions, looking up at the snow white ribbons being laced through the stairs and hung with black roses, Toki shouted up at the Klokateer that there needed to be more slack between columns. Swearing in Norwegian, throwing in that he might as well be doing this himself, the normally mild brunette had a meltdown, kicking at the spherical lanterns that were yet to be hung up, puncturing the fragile paper. Drinking their 'morning' beer in the back of the room, near the arched doorway strung up with artificially withered roses, Nathan and Murderface watched Toki lose it with mild amusement, not yet drunk enough to find it hilarious.

They didn't make it a secret that they both knew that this effort was going to be a gigantic waste of time, loudly pointing that out as Toki directed the decorating committee. It was no secret that Scout disliked making a fuss over herself, generally fine with parties themselves (or she had seemed to be to the front man and bassist), and that she was only entertaining this three-ring circus because it was Toki. Besides, they were all going to get smashed and probably ruin half of it themselves in their stupor. If she wasn't so proper, she probably would have joined in. Heh, the thought of Scout bashing in a cake with a metal folding-chair was priceless. Impossible, but priceless.

"Another travesty?" Scout had walked into the room behind Nathan, Trent bundled up in her arms, "Or is he trying to imitate a reject mime? If that's the case, he spends too much time with Rockzo. Speaking of, you don't think he'll have him preform, do you? Its one thing if the clown shows up, but if he were to preform... I'd probably have to kill myself..." She looked over at Murderface, smirking as she imagined the footage of his birthday she had stumbled across online, "No offense."

Skwisgaar had come into the room behind her, long hair tousled from waking up and just rolling out of bed, discreetly wrapping his arm around her waist, "Yous shoulds kill thes clowns firsts."

Jumping a little as his hand snaked around her, she glanced at Nathan, bouncing Trent to try to hide her sudden jerking motion, "If you care about me at all, you won't let that clown anywhere near a microphone. Even if it means killing him, I give you my permission. Whatever that counts for."

Liking that answer, Nathan was quick to comply, Pickles entering the room from the other side in time to hear him say (the redhead not seeing Scout at first and vice versa), "I fucking hate that clown too."

"Why don't we just tie him up and beat him with a stick?" Murderface offered maliciously, no more fond of Rockzo than the rest of them, possibly hating him more than all of them combined, with the exception of Nathan.

"Like a birthday beat-down!" Pickles said nostalgically, recalling his childhood when he and his friends would hit each other for each year they were alive, "Since we can't hit Scout, it's the next best thing!"

Everyone turned from Pickles to look at Scout, knowing that she wasn't going to take that well, Skwisgaar dropping his arm to his side, Nathan snorting and Murderface taking another swig from his bottle, even Toki ceasing his hissy-fit to watch. Cocking her head to the side, his words sinking in, saturating in her mind, she stared at her former lover in shock, lips quivering as if she had poked her finger on something sharp, an appropriate response working its way into her mind. How dare he compare her to that coke-head! Rockzo was old, and fat, and crazy, and... Urgh, how could he possibly have drawn a single comparison between the two of them! Fair enough, she had put on a little extra weight, but that was only because she had been pregnant! With his child no less...

"So I'm no better than some," She noticed that Toki was watching, so she bite back the inappropriate jab at Rockzo, "preforming clown? Good to know I mean that little," Turning away from the rest of them, she bowed her head, "Excuse me."

Running out of the room, they pivoted so that they were facing Pickles again, Murderface being the first to say, "What a dick. I pride myself on my ability to clear the room-"

"That's because of yours face." Skwisgaar interrupted.

"No! It's because I can be such an asshole!"

"Pft. If beings uglys ams makings yous an assholes, Is must bes the nicest guys around." The blonde laughed, rubbing it in Murderface's face that he was good looking and the bassist was not.

"Fuck you!" Hurt by his band mate's insensitive comment, Murderface threw his bottle down on the ground, sending shards flying in the air in all directions, spinning around and following Scout's example of booking it.

Nathan spoke up, agreeing with Mr. Crybaby, though he made it sound as if he had come up with the idea himself, "Wow Pickles, that was pretty fucked up. I mean, Scout's not anything like Dr. Rockzo."

"Yeahs, Rockzos ams nothings likes Scouts!" Toki chimed in, offended for both friends.

Pickles looked after Scout, at a loss for how she could have thought that, that he could ever compare her to the likes of Rockzo. Much as he hated it, he could understand how she would think that he didn't care about her, even though that couldn't be farther from the truth. Fuck it, he wasn't even going to say anything about it, because those assholes had already made up their minds and had jumped on the bandwagon, and it wasn't like he had meant it that way, but everyone was jumping to the conclusion that he did.

Spinning on his heel, Pickles also left, though he had went the way he had came, not following after her...

* * *

**Disclaimers:**

I do not own Metalocalypse.

I do own Scout, her mother Ravenia, and little baby Trent.

I do not condone the actions that may or may not take place throughout the course of this story, including but not limited to language, sexual content, drug use, and any illegal activities involving minors.

Swedish provided by Google Translate.

REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

**Author's Note:**

Ok, the new cover is half-way done, so that's good news! And the story finally has some Nathan... I mean other characters... So that's nice too!


	3. Duetklok

Was it spite, or were they just that careless? Retreating back to his room, assuming that Scout would be heading towards Skwisgaar's room right about now, Pickles had to wonder if he and Scout had been that obvious when they were together. He preferred to think that they been more secretive than the blonde's innocent touching, because they were certainly more perverse than that; he couldn't even begin to count all the times he had grabbed her (and that was only including the times he had done so while her father had been in the room).Thinking back on it, how were they never caught? It wasn't a bad thing by any means (God knows what would have happened if their relationship had gone public in that way at that time), but it made him wonder if they didn't all secretly know and were just so neutral about it that they ignored the obvious signs. It was possible that they had even seen how happy the two had been, so they kept their noses out of it. Pft, as if they could mind their own business! And if Ofdensen had found out, Pickles would bet money that he wouldn't have hid his knowledge...

But what did it matter now? Noticing where Skwisgaar's hand had fallen from had served only to cement it in his mind that Scout had indeed moved on...

That didn't mean that he couldn't reminiscence, however...

**- Several Months Ago -**

Clouds, fluffy like cream whipped into a frothy foam, grey as an achromatic war of colors, streaked silver and stripped steel, and darkly ominous, floated in the sky, overcasting the sun, promising rain. The wind was still, gusting occasionally whenever it felt things were getting too comfortable, the sound of wind chimes fluttering in the distance mingling with the sounds of children laughing and a swan flapping irritably in the lake. The park was lively enough so it wasn't a graveyard, but sparse enough so that a couple could enjoy their date without too much trepidation of being interrupted, or worse, identified. Holding hands, the young miss leading the way to a quaint little bench that overlooked the lake, the twosome setting aside their worries to be alone together.

"Come on, I'm tired. Let's just take a little break, huh?" Scout said, plopping down, her legs crossed at the ankle, "Or is Mr. Famous-metal-band too concerned about his image to be seen at the park with a girl dressed in pink?"

He rolled his eyes, "Ya can't see tha pink unless ya take off your jacket."

She grinned, taking his advice and removing the light raincoat so she was sitting there in a plain magenta tank-top, "Thanks for reminding me! But now if you don't sit with me, I might freeze, and if I freeze, I'll get sick, and if I get sick, I'll have to explain how I-"

Arm twisted into sitting down with her (not that he had a problem being seen with her, thinking more the reverse of that), he unzipped his navy hoodie, pulling her into his lap so he could close it over the two of them, "You're lucky you're not a big fat guy."

"Aw," She frowned, wrapping her arms around his neck, "Are you saying you wouldn't like me if I was a fatty... with a dick? That hurts, babe, that hurts me deep. I'd still date you even if you started to go bald."

Teasing back, Pickles tightened his hold on her waist as he adjusted her so she wasn't squishing anything, "I'm not saying that. I'm saying that I would stop seeing ya if ya got fat."

Pouting, she looked at him, granite eyes wider than normal (which was saying something), "So you would stop having sex with me if I got any heavier?"

He reminded her of the obvious, "We're not having sex now."

"Details," She shrugged, "But seriously, you wouldn't just drop me if I were to ever let myself go?" Scout nuzzled her head up to his neck, "You like me for me, right? Not because of what I am?"

Pickles had no idea that she was just as self-conscious as he was, "Would you?"

She shook her head earnestly, "I would only walk away if you made me. Or if a better offer came along," Kissing him before he could object, Scout grinned, "But that would involve you, me, and a time machine. You might not see it, but there's no one else I could ever care for the same way I care for you. At the risk of getting gooey," She broke out into song:

_You and I, two worlds clashing by accident, bonded by tragedy, as different as black and white are  
_

_Grunge and metal birthed in the darkest depths of hell, spinning lies, rolling the dice and coming out on top twice  
_

_Leather and spikes, murder galore, but add a bit of glam and I have you  
_

_A girl, nothing special in this mad world you know so well, taken from the bosom, awoken from suburbian dreams  
_

_So close and yet so far, never knowing a thing until I met you, a mindless drone spoon fed lies!  
_

_Classic instrumental defines the past, animalistic passions the present, the future yet to be written in your hand...  
_

_Liquid amber thighs, blood and death, snort it away  
_

_Fake pearls on a string, don't scream, a barbiturate dream  
_

_Twisting free, hands torn raw in the shackles they kept you in, ascending on high, outshining them all  
_

_Lost in the pain, embracing the hate -  
_

He cut her off, joining in the song as well :

_Now wait just a minute, you think you know me, can see through my pain? What makes you sure you know me at all?_

**[Scout:] **_Deny all you want, I see it in your eyes, taste it in your lips, and hear it in your blood_ _  
_

_You can lie to the world, to your friends, and to yourself, but you can't lie to me; I know you, I have your number, and I can feel your soul _

_It calls to me, a beacon in the sea of our misery, the magnetic force that calls me to you  
_

_Can you feel it too?  
_

_**[Pickles:]** I can feel your thigh in my hand  
_

_**[Scout:] ** I know you feel more than that  
_

_**[Pickles:] ** You would taste sweet on my meat  
_

_ **[Scout:] **I know you're not sweet, but not everyone has a tooth for sugar  
_

_**[Pickles:] ** If you want the kinky stuff I have a can of whip cream  
_

_**[Scout:] ** Just tell me what we both know to be true, and you can do what you want with me  
_

_I'll be your slave  
_

_Tie me up, make me go down, take out the toys, sneak in from behind, I'll let you fuck my soul, I'll do my best to make you happy  
_

_I just have one condition - Tell me what I want to hear, and don't lie  
_

_ **[Pickles] ** You mean you'll let me film it?  
_

_ Import technology?  
_

_Let me pick off the menu?  
_

_Call the zoo? And have you put on display at the mall?  
_

_What about calling a friend?  
_

_ **[Scout:] ** You're crazy if you think I don't have my boundaries!  
_

_Record all you want, so long as it never gets out  
_

_Import what you will, I can't imagine you'd be that sick  
_

_Unless I'm allergic, call me your dinner plate  
_

_But if I'm not special enough to keep to yourself, then I'm gone right about now!  
_

_I'm too greedy to share, so if you want more than what I can give, it had better be your hand or say 'made in China'  
_

_ **[Pickles:] ** You're a fucking idiot if you think I would comply  
_

_ **[Scout:] ** Comply to what? I never asked you for a ring!  
_

_ **[Pickles:] ** To your demands  
_

_You mean more to me than a one night-stand  
_

_I refuse to let you be seen by a man that isn't me  
_

_As for a threesome I've had my share, it's you I worry about-  
_

_ **[Scout:] ** Just who do you think you're talking to?  
_

_I don't want to hear about those sluts you banged backstage!  
_

_ **[Pickles:] ** So you're telling me you wouldn't want another?  
_

_ **[Scout:] ** Baby, haven't you been listening to a word I've said?  
_

_It's you I care about, not Tom, Dick, or Harry!  
_

_If I had my pick of the world's bachelors, every time it would be you  
_

_I can't conceive of a world without you, without a you and and me; It's just not right!_

_There's only one handle that can turn my crank  
_

_Yours is the face I want to see in the morning  
_

_Yours are the lips I want to kiss at night  
_

_Honey, you're not the flame that lights me up, you're the fire  
_

_ I...  
_

_You're my life  
_

_**[Pickles:] **If you promise what you say is true, I can give you want you want  
_

_ **[Scout:] ** I mean every word, now and forever  
_

_ **[Pickles:] ** Then you win  
_

_I feel it too, that spark that drives me to you  
_

_That resounding echo in the water that tells me you're near, that rage I feel when I can't hold you because of those bastards  
_

_Your mind is as sharp as the blade I want to lay into their backs, your lips the high I struggle to find  
_

_You're mine, because I know you  
_

_Because you know me  
_

_And you stayed  
_

The song ended with her kissing him again, the phone buzzing in her pocket. Her father, calling her home from what was supposed to be a a trip to the market for new violin strings...

**- Metalocalypse -**

Back in her room after being insulted, alone with Trent as per usual, Scout sat on her bed, reading Geoffrey Chaucer's _"The Knight's Tale" _to her son. Skwisgaar had tried to follow her to her room, but she told him that she needed to be alone. Mercifully, he had heeded her words and had backed away to give her her space. After what had happened, what could he say? What could any of them have said? The only person that could have made her feel better was the one that had insulted her in the first place, and due to their strained relationship, it wasn't like he was liable to apologize.

God, why couldn't things go back to the way they used to be?

Setting the book down on her pillow, Scout held her son in her arms, looking off into space, imagining all that had been...

_Memories_

_The double-edged sword in my heart, the only proof I have that it was all real  
_

_In my mind I can still see you smiling at me  
_

_Your arms 'round my shoulders and your breath warm on my neck  
_

_Bouncing around in my head I can still hear you calling my name  
_

_Never thought it would come to this  
_

_Never imagined it would end like this  
_

Head leaning against the wall, legs numb from sitting on the floor, Pickles stared up out of the window, seeing her face in the stars outside...

_Never meant for it to come to this_

_I never imagined_ _I would have been the one to end it_

_Was it a love doomed from the beginning or was it only meant to be a short romance?  
_

_It feels like only yesterday you were wrapped in my arms  
_

_But now you're off with another guy  
_

_Did you forget the promise you made me?  
_

Together they sang out..._  
_

_You haunt my dreams, face the sun snuffed too soon  
_

_I wish I could just forget you, lose the precious time we shared  
_

_Why did you have to break my heart?  
_

_How come our destiny escaped us when it seemed so clear?  
_

_Why did it have to end?_

_Memories, they leave me a shattered husk, no more than dust in the wind  
_

_Memories  
_

_Why  
_

_Did  
_

_It  
_

___End...?_  


* * *

**Disclaimers:**

I do not own Metalocalypse.

I do own Scout, her mother Ravenia, and little baby Trent.

I do not condone the actions that may or may not take place throughout the course of this story, including but not limited to language, sexual content, drug use, and any illegal activities involving minors.

Swedish provided by Google Translate.

REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

**Author's Note:**

In honor of Season Three and it's amazing musical numbers.


	4. Eighteenklok

Before they knew what had hit them, the day of the party had arrived at last, Scout spending the earlier part of the day - the part not spent solely with Trent - in the recording studio with Nathan. Ever the perfectionist, he had gone back to the studio to re-re-re-record some of his stuff, and if that meant avoiding being crammed into his suit, so be it. So what started as hiding out had turned into a pretty good time actually, but they had been found by Toki and a Klokateer and were both stuck getting ready. If it wasn't for all the hard work Toki had put into it, she wouldn't even have bothered with the party and rather would have spent the night sleeping instead. But she couldn't disappoint Toki, sweet little Toki, so she had resigned herself to her fate and had shimmed her way into a gown she saw for the first time on her bed, waiting to be worn. Though she had her doubts about it, she had to admit to herself that he had chosen the perfect dress for her...

Too bad she really didn't want to celebrate her birthday, not even if had had just been her and the boys...

Once, there was a time when she had been looking forward to this day, but that was before he had ripped her still-beating heart from her chest. She had dreamt once of the day when she would be eighteen, when she could pursue her own ambitions and not those of her mother. And then she had met him, and there had been one more reason to become an adult, to be free of those who would tell her 'no'. Once she had turned eighteen, she could tell the world that she was a claimed woman, that she belonged to Pickles, and that he was off the market because he was with her. Fun as they had been, they wouldn't have to have their secret (mostly) late-night rendezvous, because they could walk in the sun together without the constant fear of being discovered. But that was before she had become a mother...

**- Metalocalypse -**

Downstairs, at the party, worse yet by the refreshment table, Pickles stood with Skwisgaar, the nearest possible interloper by the speakers, being a pissed-off Murderface fresh off rejection from a fake blonde day-glow Umpa-Lumpa. It had been the first time that he had been alone with the guitarist since he had seen him kissing Scout after Trent was born, and he was taking advantage of the relative solitude. Skwisgaar had been waiting for some kind of confrontation, the drummer acting strangely since Scout had given birth to his son. If it weren't for past experiences, he might have thought that the redhead was going to wait to be completely alone with him, but after everything with Nathan and almost breaking up the band, he had no idea of what Pickles was capable of.

Twirling his wine glass between his thumb and forefinger like a villain would twirl his mustache, Pickles turned to Skwisgaar and came right out with it, "So, ya enjoyin' my sloppy seconds? There's a gold-digger over there I could introduce ya ta."

"Whats ams yous tryings to says, Pickle?" He arched a golden eyebrow at the other man, unsure of what he was insinuating, but sure that he was implying something bad. His green eyes were blazing too darkly for the drummer to have any other intent.

"Scout. Do ya enjoy fucking her?" He cocked his head, waiting for a reply, goading him until he said something, rubbing it in that he was with her first, "Tha way that she works her tongue is magic, innit? I dunno bout you, but I still have the track marks from where her nails broke tha skin. And then tha way she moans in the back of her throat when ya enter her... She's pretty good for a novice, don't cha think?"

Setting his own glass down on the table, Skwisgaar was about to respond when the music warped, cutting off before changing tracks, the lights dimming and re-angling themselves to point at the top of the staircase. Distracted by this, they both fell mute, eyes following the spotlight. Looking like she was caught doing something unspeakable, clearly not expecting this kind of attention, Scout herself nervously poked her head out from behind the wall and waved anxiously at the hundred plus people that watched her as she came out and joined the rest of them. Sliding one black-gloved hand over the banister, praying that the satin didn't snag and that she wouldn't trip in her ridiculously high, strappy heels (she made a mental not to never let a guy, a straight guy, pick out her footwear ever again).

Breath caught in his chest, Pickles looked upon her in awe, never once imagining that she could look any more beautiful than when she had woken up in his arms after that first night. Brown hair - fading blonde when they had first met - pulled back into a low bun, the hair in front curling around her arms, bangs braided back behind her ears, she wore a small diamond headdress encrusted with real sapphires. An early gift from her father, her necklace hung on a thread of silver, a single blue gem dangling from the bottom of serpentine spirals, cradled at the base of her collar bone. Form-fitting and one-of-a-kind, her gown was strapless, shimmering like starlight in silver charmeuse silk, an additional embroidered midnight-blue tulle skirt belted under the bust by a sable sash. While none of them understood the specifics of her temporary make-over, they certainly didn't fail to see the effects of it.

"Laids-keys ands gen-ka-la-mens, Scouts Offs-dens-sens!" Toki's voice, pre-recorded, came on over the music, along with various bangs, crashes, and indistinguishable background noises, gleefully announcing the young woman so many only knew as 'mystery girl', 'harlot', or 'random payroll slut'.

Reaching the foot of the stairs, she looked around uncertainly, searching for a familiar face in the crowd. She found three, one of them standing out like a beacon, the look on his face one that any girl would dream of seeing, rapt adoration, but it was the wrong face, the wrong look at the wrong time. Still carrying some of the extra weight from the pregnancy, she felt like an idiot packed in a tin suit (though aside from the additional chub she felt amazing in Toki's gift), so why did he have to look at her now, when she looked like this? A whale trying to fit into a tuna...

Going to collect the guest of honor, Toki stepped between Scout and Pickles, pulling her into the fray, "Wowee! Yous ams lookings so beautys-fulls!"

Glancing over her shoulder as she was swept away, she was disappointed to see that he wasn't standing there any more, no longer looking at her. Cursing herself for crossing that line, she followed Toki, mindful of her skirts as they trailed behind like her raw heartstrings...

**- Metalocalypse -**

Raging at full-swing after ninety minutes, Toki well passed tipsy and pissing in the corner, suit stained with half of what he was drinking, Skwisgaar pulled into another room and forced into speaking with the new label head, Murderface sitting at the couch by himself, slashing at the leather with his knife, and Nathan no where to be seen, the party went on, the birthday girl absent from the proceedings. Scout had dipped into the background of things, politely shaking hands and thanking strangers for showing up when she had to, biding her time until she was able to break away and return to her son. Thankfully, that time had come, so she had slipped into the shadows, creeping up the stairs, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw Pickles leaning against the wall only a little ways into the hallway.

Heart slamming against her chest at the sight of him, of being alone with him once more, a lump forming in her throat, the blood freezing in her veins, she realized that he was waiting for her, "Pickles," His name nearly choked her as she spoke around the tightness in her throat, sending her all the way back to square effin' one, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be down there with the rest of them? Enjoying the party?" _Without me_.

He acted as if she hadn't spoken first, the awe not hidden in his voice, "You look beautiful tonight."

"Not like Rockzo?" She had neither forgiven nor forgotten that little incident.

He laughed, dismissing that last remark, "Nothin' like Rockzo. I know ya don't like crowds, but I thought that ya would have lasted longer out there. What cha ya running from?" He looked into her eyes, reading her like an open book, "Meetin' someone?"

Scout couldn't resist the opportunity to throw his words back in his face, even though she knew exactly who was referring to, "Besides the Sandman? Just Trent. You do know who Trent is, don't you?"

Trying to storm passed him, shoulders squared, he caught her by the arms, swinging her into the wall none too gently, pinning her (not that this was the first time that had happened), hissing dangerously in her ear, "Don't play that game wit me, Princess. Ya won't like where it goes."

"Princess?" She repeated incredulously, "Jesus, Pickles, I thought you were more creative than that! I really have to wonder if you contribute as much as you're given credit for, with a piss-poor threat like that. In fact, I wonder a lot of things about you."

Already drunk, and now seeing red, he snarled, "Oh, yeah? I bet ya do think about me all the time. That's why you're always shut up in your room!"

The thing about knowing someone well was that you knew exactly where to go to make them suffer the worst, "Close, but no. I've been too busy fucking your band mate to spare a thought on the likes of an old has-been like you!" The minute the words had left her mouth, she regretted it, knowing that she had gone too far, so she didn't blame him for what happened next.

_SLAP!_ His hand flew across her face before either of them could blink, leaving an angry red mark and a rather loud echo in its wake. And then things got even more heated from there. Yanking him forward by his candy-apple tie, she slammed her mouth into his, months upon months of pent-up aggression pouring out at once, all of the anguish of that time fueling the fire. Hands roaming freely, his fingers clamping down on the meat in back, her's twining savagely in his dreads, forcing him closer and closer, her leg joined in, wrapping itself up around his waist (thank you Toki for the flowing material), causing his pelvis to grind against hers. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to savor the feeling of her hips pressing against his as she attacked him with her tongue.

Breaking for a quick breath of air, he noticed that her eyes were closed as well, a look of demonic lust upon her countenance, a succubus enjoying her meal before she devoured her prey whole. Nipping his lip, grey orbs seductively downcast, her hand slid between the little bit of space there was between bodies, her fingers darting over his fly, practically ripping the buttons off. Mirroring her movements, he pushed her dress up, bunching the material over her thigh, picking her up so that he could carry her to a more private location. The party was only a flight away, and it sounded like someone was drunkenly wandering upstairs, ambling as slowly as possible.

Grasping his manhood firmly in her hand, wrist poking out of his zipper, her dress offering next to no coverage, she began to pump her arm back and forth, whispering as he carried her deeper down the hallway (with some difficulty), "Your room is closer."

He cringed at that (the state of it in worse shape than she had ever seen it), "Yeah..."

Taking them to her room (Scout too busy enjoying her snack to pay attention to their destination), Pickles caught off-guard to see how much it had changed with the addition of their son, he accidentally rammed her back into the doorway when he saw the Klokateer sitting in the sage-green armchair (that was new and placed between the bed and the crib). Tactful, Number 4128 made her way out of the room without a word, not even a look back. Even if she wasn't exactly a member of Dethklok, Scout was part of the family, much like her father was (meaning she would gladly lay down her own life for her mistress), and it was a good gig (with a considerably lower mortality rate than any other position), so Number 4128 wasn't about to jeopardize that by revealing what she had seen. Besides, her mistress looked far happier than she had ever seen her look, outside of when she was with the young master.

Throwing her on the bed, her head bouncing off the mattress, legs dangling off the side, Pickles dropped trou, climbing on top of her as she struggled with the zipper on the side of her dress. Not succeeding, he shoved her hands away, ripping the dress so he could slide it over her head, discarding it some place by his pants. It was a sickening sound, and a bit of a shame as a lot of hard work had gone into making it, but there was no comparison between the dress and Pickles. Looking down at her laying there with only a pink G-string on (the dress leaving next to no room for suitable skivvies), she looked away, blushing. It had been such a long time, and her body had changed with the baby, so she was worried that seeing her like this would make him change his mind about this. Luckily for her, he was still too fired up to think rationally (and anyways with her wasn't about the tits).

Ramming his tongue down her throat, payback for earlier in the hallway, he ran his hand over her bare thigh, fingertips grazing her skin, sending shivers up and down her spine, "Don't think this means I forgive you."

Had the pleasure she was feeling not overloaded her mind already, the time spent apart working against her and making her entire body a live-wire, she would have asked him what he meant by that...

* * *

**Disclaimers:**

I do not own Metalocalypse.

I do own Scout, her mother Ravenia, and her son, Trent.

I do not condone the actions that may or may not take place throughout the course of this story, including but not limited to language, sexual content, drug use, and any illegal activities involving minors.

Swedish provided by Google Translate.

REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

**Author's Note:**

Having written a majority of this chapter before chapter three, I give you the start of a very bad turn. Well aside from Skwisgaar's hair frizzing out like in "_Writersklok_", and the fact that I suck at profiles and **never** draw guys, this cover actually turned out alright! It probably helps that I took the time to clean it up in Paint. Anyways, lots of stuff going down in this chapter, and I don't just mean pants... Boom!


	5. Deth and Rebirth

Finally free from the label's clutches, Skwisgaar had returned to Scout's party in the hope that he could pull the birthday girl aside and give her her gift in private, but she was no where to be found, and the one person that might have known where she went was getting into a fight with a lamp. Pft, Toki. Knowing Scout, she probably went back to her room to sleep. Or to feed her son. Anyone could change him, anyone being the Klokateers she employed, but only she could feed him. Lucky little bastard didn't even know what a blessing he had, getting to suck on her luscious milkbags. What Skwisgaar wouldn't give to be able to touch those breasts...

He had really been looking forward to giving her her present, because he knew that she couldn't refuse him if it were a gift. The last few weeks hadn't been bad per say, but a part of him had wondered if she was ever going to let him touch her. She was either too busy with the baby or just not in the mood, so he had often found himself going back to his room alone, falling asleep unsatisfied. Well, untouched by a pair of hands that wasn't his own. At least he knew that if there had been another person involved, someone actually likely to sleep with her (Pickles too jealous and proud to apologize to her and Scout too hurt for them to work it out in the foreseeable future), she wouldn't have the time or energy for him. Or her? Was it possible that she would be interested in a woman? If they ever got that intimate, maybe he would look into the possibility of a threesome. Fuck, he was game even if she wanted to bring in another dude...

Skwisgaar just wanted to get it in her...

Catching Nathan at the foot of the stairs (the very same ones that Pickles and Scout had been at moments before), the guitarist said to the front man, "Has yous ams having beens seeings Scouts?"

Nathan looked at the blonde, confused and shocked by seeing Scout jumping Pickles, and torn between loyalty to two different friends, or three depending on on you counted it, "Uh... Uh... No. I didn't see her going up stairs with Pickles."

"With Pickle?" He repeated, storming passed the burly singer, upset and trying to reassure himself that Nathan must not have seen right, or that it wasn't what he thought, "Noes. Noes. Scouts ams mads at Pickle, she wouldn't-"

He froze outside her door, hand poised over the doorknob, hearing her voice on the other side as she moaned out, "Oh, yes! Right there, right... Oh, God, yes, yes, yes! Ow, slap it again! Oh!"

"Shut the fuck up and suck!" It was indeed Pickles' voice, angrier than Skwisgaar had ever heard him, and he had heard the more responsible man get really pissed off in the past. He could only imagine the look on Scout's face as she opened her mouth and took in his cock.

Days without fucking random sluts, hours spent jerking-off, and this was how she repaid him? By fucking her ex? Picturing her in his mind, her dark hair tossed over one shoulder as she got on her hands and knees, he could almost feel her mouth on his own dick, her tongue sliding over the head, down the shaft, the tip kissing the back of her throat. Pitching a tent at the thought of seeing that side of her, he looked around to make sure that no one was coming, and he pulled the zipper down, his manhood getting harder as her voice drifted through the walls. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes, pretending that it was him inside that room with her as his hand wrapped firmly around his member. This dry spell was killing him...

**- Metalocalypse -**

No matter how long they had been apart from each other, it seemed as if they would always remember exactly which ways to bend, the exact spot to kiss, and even recall with seemingly day-old precision the best way to please the other, so even though that - along with the fact that it had been such a long time since they had been intimate at all - meant that they had the best sex they've ever had, although it made the thorn in the heart ache so much worse. If only they had fallen out of sync, then it would have been more than easy enough to say that at least their bodies had moved on.

Setting aside everything, if they had just gone by pure body language, or whatever you wanted to call it, it would have seemed like a time before Dethklok went on that disastrous world tour, their love a nasty, red-hot, dirty forbidden secret. Looking back, besides from Trent, the only good thing Scout saw about this pseudo-reunion would have been that they were no longer bound by the same shackles. The _same_ shackles. Though their minds and bodies were otherwise engaged, that didn't change the fact that there were still things in the outside world that would prevent this from being a string-less affair or mere relapse. They didn't even realize it once they had finished, bodies curled up and spent, breathings coming in heavy huffs still, neither's heart in much of a healthy place, granted that was for two different reasons. Pickles was drunk, reeling on hurt, anger, and pent-up lust, and Scout... Well, she wasn't drunk.

"...I didn't." She spoke at last, looking at him for the first time since collapsing against the mattress, "I didn't sleep with him. He tried the other night, but I couldn't go through with it." She shook her head, the bitterness clear in her voice, "I know that you don't care about me, but I only said that I slept with him because I was hurting so much. It was stupid of me to say that to you, but the words just came out. I know that it doesn't matter, but you should know that I didn't mean it."

He couldn't believe his ears, because he had seen them together firsthand, "Ya don't havta pity me. I've seen ya together!"

The Rockzo incident. Of course he had seen that, "You really are slow on the uptake sometimes, aren't you? Yes, I am confused about the relationship I have with him, about where it comes from, but he could never replace..." Scout choked on the tears welling up in her grey orbs, "I know that you don't care about me, about..." She looked over at the crib, where their son was still sound asleep, "I know that I'm just wasting my breath, but I never stopped loving you. Not when you left me there in that hospital room, alone and with so many hard questions to answer, not when he's grown and asking me those same tough questions, nor when he's starting a family all his own. Not even when you move on with the next girl. What you saw was me, trying and failing at moving on... "

He could read by the defeated look in her face where she was going with that, "Ya saw me tha night..."

"I failed to do what you could." She sat up, looking out of the window, pale, exposed spine to him.

"I couldn't. Not for a lack of tryin'." Mirroring her movement of getting vertical, Pickles still could envision that night, of bringing back some random skank to fuck, of being unable to rise to the occasion, of having to pay double to ensure her secrecy, but he had no idea that Scout had seen...

Her heart skipped a beat, "You mean...? You didn't?"

And she accused him of being slow on the uptake? He didn't sleep with anyone in all of the time that they had been apart, only trying to once out of some combination of insanity, pain, and rage, and she didn't either, although, thinking about it, wasn't her situation worse? While she may not have let it get that far with the Swede, it was more than a sex thing she had with him - it was almost a real relationship, regardless of whether or not her heart was in it.

Realizing this, he couldn't help but to wonder, well aware that it was a wonderment that could go very bad very quick, "Are ya happy with him?"

Startled by the oddity of his inquiry, she could only blink at him, "What kind of a question is that?"

"Does he make ya happy?" He repeated himself dryly, thinking that she was trying to stall.

Skwisgaar had been there for her when no one else was, they had even become friends, and of course there had been moments when he had truly made her smile from the bottom of her heart, but she knew what her red-headed lover was getting at, "Pickles," Scout reached out and held her palm to his cheek, looking him dead in the eye, "There are only two men in my life that could make me happy, and they're both right here in this room."

Placing his hand over hers, he felt something wash over him, something that he had been holding back, something that had always been bubbling just below the surface, something that had left him teetering precariously in the verge of a breakdown ever since he realized it, and even though it had been something that had eluded him his entire life, from his birth to his tumultuous teen years, even now into adulthood, he knew exactly what the feeling was: It was love. He loved this girl, this woman, and in that moment, it didn't matter if she had slept with hundreds of men and had broken millions of hearts, because all that mattered was that she felt the same way about him that he felt about her, and until that moment, that was something he had never experienced before. Bringing her close, Pickles held her to his chest as everything became right in the world, in his world, in their world...

* * *

**Disclaimers:**

I do not own Metalocalypse.

I do own Scout, her mother Ravenia, and her son, Trent.

I do not condone the actions that may or may not take place throughout the course of this story, including but not limited to language, sexual content, drug use, and any illegal activities involving minors.

Swedish provided by Google Translate.

REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

**Author's Note:**

Yep, that mystery person on the stairs was Nathan! As for the whole jacking-off instead of storming off angrily thing, I think that that is appropriate for how he, being deprived of sex, would act. Is it? I don't know, but it wouldn't surprise me personally. If you doubt that Skwisgaar would have a threesome with another guy, then I invite you to watch "Dethscources".


	6. Reunitedklok

Just on the verge of sleep despite the fact that they were still vertical, so content in each other's arms, locked in such a wordlessly romantic embrace, they received the most sudden of wake up calls when baby Trent started to cry, the sound so unexpected that it caused them both to jump. Glancing over her shoulder at Pickles as she got out of bed, a look of abandonment momentarily on his face, Scout quickly tossed on the robe hanging from the side of the armchair, going to the crib and taking the baby out, she held him to her bosom, gently rocking him back and forth. Watching her, how tender she was as she tried to ascertain the cause of the disruption, he grabbed his underwear from the floor, pulling them on.

Feeding her son the natural way, Scout stood looking at Pickles in a half-open robe, hoping that he wasn't just going to leave her again, "You're not leaving, are you?"

He looked at her, "You tell me."

Tell him? Of course she wanted him to stay, but how could she possibly say that without it feeling like she was forcing him into it, or worse, attempting to guilt him into something that he neither wanted nor was ready for? As much as she loathed the idea of being alone, she had come to accept it, the fact that she was going to be a single teen mom, and as selfish as it was, she didn't want Pickles back for their child - she wanted him back for herself. She knew that it was terrible, that she was undoubtedly one of the single-most worst mother's alive, but hadn't she sacrificed everything else for her child? Was it too much to ask for this one thing? She supposed that it was, but no matter what her brain kept saying, she couldn't help that her heart was wired to feel the way that it did.

"Don't make me say it..." She pleaded dolefully, "You know what I want to say, but I can't! You... You have to tell me what it is that you want, because I don't want you to resent me, and I know that if you don't do this yourself, that will happen." She turned her back to him during this speech, spinning to the side so he didn't have a clear view of their son when she burped him, afraid that seeing Trent might guilt him into something, "I want back what we had, but not at the cost I imagine."

He walked over to her, a quizzical look in his eyebrow ring, "And wha cost do ya imagine?"

Holding Trent in her arms, his little hands reaching out for her stray hairs, she merely shook her head, silently hating that she could never escape from Pickles, "You're really going to make me say it, aren't you?" She sighed, "Fine, you You win. I'll admit that I want you to stay here... with me. But I'm afraid that if you do, you'll do it for the wrong reasons, and one morning, you're going to wake up and realize it. It was hard enough losing you once, and I know that I couldn't bear it if it happened again..."

Getting up with a creaking of bones, the older drummer took the young woman in his arms, careful of how he grabbed her due to the infant in her arms still, "Ya couldn' bear it again? I couldn' bear it now! Scout, dude, don' cha know wha this did ta me? Losin' ya was the hardest thing I've ever had ta do! Watchin' you... Not bein' able ta hear ya voice anymore... It was killin' me!"

"Pickles..." She dropped her head against his chest, just breathing in his scent so it could never leave her again, "I can't... I just can't do this anymore... I can't play it cool and pretend like I don't care anymore. You have to know how much I love you, how much it kills me to spend even a moment without you. When we were together, the only consolation I took from sleep was that I could see you in my dreams, and when we..." She choked, "When we broke up, the only thing I could do was sleep, so at least some part you still loved me. I wanted to just crawl into a hole and die when I thought that you stopped loving me, but I couldn't. It destroyed me when you left..." She clarified so that he didn't think she was blaming him, "I'm a terrible person, because I never once thought of having you back for anyone other than myself. I hurt so bad, not even..." She shook her head, "It was the death of me when you turned your back on me, because I was afraid that I had done something wrong, that you didn't love me any more, that you never loved me. I tried so hard to figure out what I had done... There was even a moment when I considered a woman's choice... But I couldn't go through with it. I hate who I am, loath what I've done, but I would do it all over again, if it means that I could have even one more hour with you."

Holding his arm with the hand not bracing her son, Scout looked at Pickles, more terrified to hear what he had to say to her now than when she had first learned that she was pregnant, and he could see as much in her eyes, feeling equally as frightened, "Scout, I want ya back in my life. No, I need ya back in my life. I would give up anythin' to have ya back in my life," Pickles looked down at the baby for the first real time, "Tha both of ya."

Those four words were four she had never expected to hear, being more than she had ever dared to dream of hearing, "The both of us?"

"Scout, would ya hand me..." He paused for a long moment, not sure what exactly to say as he didn't know their child's name, "Tha kid?"

Looking down at the baby in her arms, she smiled, handing him over to Pickles for the very first time, thinking of her own experience holding Trent for the very first time, "Careful. Unlike his father, his head isn't made of rock."

"Yet." He smirked at her, instantly far more frightened than he ever had been before in his life as she placed the baby in his arms, worried that any wrong motion would harm him and upset his mother. But even through that trepidation, there was a moment, a moment that sparked something else inside of him.

As much as he loved Scout, this was different, because while she was metaphorically another part of himself, the baby was literally a part of himself. Hopefully the best part of himself. Holding his son in his arms for the first time, he had a flash that this little being was the best thing in his life, that every mistake he had ever made was made solely for the purpose of this moment, of creating something so perfect that every notion he had ever had amounted to nothing. There was nothing that this boy could ever do to make him lose any love for him.

He was perfect. She was perfect. They were perfect. His family was perfect. He always thought that those assholes he grew up with were his family, shitty as they were, but he thought that that was going to be it for him. He didn't deserve any better. But then, he got his real family. Sure, the members of Dethklok were like his brothers, and that was pretty cool (not that he would ever admit it), but he knew that that was only a temporary thing. His real family was Scout and their son, and that was all he needed.

"What's his name?" Pickles was being quieter than he needed to be, but she still heard him, and seeing the bond Pickles was developing with Trent, was truly happy for the first time in a very long time.

Smiling, she ran her fingers through Trent's flaming red hair, "Trent. I named him Trent Andrew Ofdensen."

"Trent..." It wasn't the first name would have picked, but somehow it fit their son just fine, "It's a good name."

She was glad he approved, "I had a hard time picking the name, but when I saw him... It just made sense. I can't explain it, but sometimes you just know, you know?"

Looking at her, he couldn't help but to smile, knowing exactly what she meant.

* * *

**Disclaimers:**

I do not own Metalocalypse.

I do own Scout, her mother Ravenia, and her son, Trent.

I do not condone the actions that may or may not take place throughout the course of this story, including but not limited to language, sexual content, drug use, and any illegal activities involving minors.

Swedish provided by Google Translate.

REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

**Author's Note: **Well, here' another chapter! Maybe its kinda rehash-y, but I really liked it for the most part. I'm glad that Pickles can finally be happy! I luvs Pickles!


	7. Deth-Soulmate

The next morning rolled around without too much incident, the sun leering through the blinds she had left open last night, bouncing off of his dredlocks, difusing on her face with a shimmering gold gleam. Trent was back in his crib so they could finally get some sleep; hours spent just holding him in his arms as the wasted time faded away, and Scout was still sound asleep, peaceful as she dreamt. Smiling at the woman in his arms, he wished that he could spend every day waking up in this same way - content and without the lingering demons that chased him.

And what was stopping him? While she could never stop being Ofdensen's daughter - as if that stopped him - she was an adult now, so why fear being discovered together? They were consenting adults, and he genuinely did love her... Kissing her temple as he pulled her closer into his arms, Pickles came to a conclusion. A conclusion he hoped she would agree to...

Maybe it was the kiss or maybe she was just waking up on her own, but whatever the cause, Scout opened her eyes, blinking at first to make sure that it wasn't all just some fantastic dream, "Morning."

She grinned at him, and he was brought back to the first time he had ever seen her smile at him, "Scout, I was thinkin'..." He trailed off for a moment, grabbing her waist and forcing her body so that she was lying on top of him, as opposed to by his side, "About us."

Her heart sank for a moment, dropping slower than a valuable necklace deliberately dropped into the ocean by a dying woman, "...Oh?"

Moving his arms up her back, the drummer drew spirals up and down the bare skin, "I want ya back. I want ta help ya raise Trent. I want ta wake up in tha mornin', knowin' that you'll be there. I want ta hold ya after we make love. I want ta fall asleep and wake up ta your face. I want ya ta be mine."

"You didn't have to scare me half to death to tell me that," She beamed in relief, kissing his face, ignoring the whiskers that poked her, a marginal part of herself missing them, "and I think you already know what my answer to all that is."

Enjoying the way she was working her tongue and attacking him, not regretting for an instant the decision to put her on top, he still had something important to tell her before giving in to one of her morning quickies, "Scout, I'm tryin' ta ask ya something important here..." He grabbed her by the wrists, slowing her down just a little, because it was impossible to stop a hurricane, "I need ta know that we're back together."

Confused, she looked at him sideways, "What are you talking about? I never left you, and I thought that last night..." Her face fell, "Was I wrong?"

No, she was right for thinking that they were back together, he just didn't want her to get the wrong idea about this, "I want ya ta to come with me to that dildo award that Ofdensen's making us do."

"But I was going to be there anyways... Pickles, what are you trying to say to me?" Despite the sleep that she did get last night and that morning, she was running on months of fumes and an hour of liquid crack, so her mind wasn't as sharp as it normally would have been.

He wondered if she just wasn't trying to be difficult and make him pay in subtle ways, "I want ya there _with_ me," He tried to stress the importance of the word once more, "As my date."

As his date...? But that would mean that...

Jumping, she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed so tight he was seeing little stars in his green eyes, framing her lovely face, "You want to tell them about us? My father, and Nathan, and Toki, and..." Her stomach did a flip and promptly dropped, "Skwisgaar!"

He didn't like it, but that was the response he had more or less expected from her, "Any chance we could jus' tell 'em all at the same time?"

"I owe him better than that." She said that, but she was afraid of what he might do when she told him that she was back with Pickles - he wasn't going to be very happy about it, that much was for sure... But if he did care about her at all, then shouldn't he at least pretend to be a little happy? That was asking for _way_ too much.

**- Metalocalypse -**

Standing outside of the lead guitarist's room Pickles and Scout found it rather difficult to keep themselves from touching the other one; not only were they living on Cloud Nine with an extended visa, but they - especially the young lady - were very nervous about they were about to do. Skwisgaar had been so good to her, and he was a lot like a brother or something (but not an actual brother, like that dickhead Seth) to him, so it wasn't easy to have to face him with the news. But on the bright side, once this was out of the way, they would be in the clear to tell the rest of the world... Great... If it was this hard to tell one guy, how fucking hard was it going to be to tell the rest of Dethklok, and even worse, their families? Ofdensen might actually have him killed... Was it too late to change his mind about this entire thing?

So five seconds from bailing on this whole thing - what did he even need to be there for anyways?! - Scout looked over at the drummer and smiled at him, taking his hand for reassurance. She was just as as frightened, if not more so, but just looking into her eyes, he felt stronger suddenly, and even though she could see the fear shining in his eyes, she felt strength pouring from him the instant she grabbed for his hand. Maybe it was a harsh way to start this out, but they couldn't do this without the other, so it couldn't be helped...

Reaching out to knock on the Swede's door, it fell open before contact could be made, but it was not by magic that this was possible - opening the door at that very same moment was a gaggle of whores, ranging from age and weight. Were it not for the man at her side, Scout might have felt a little hurt at the discovery, as if she had so much room for indignation. Pickles didn't even really need to try that hard to keep his eyes off of the fleeing harlots.

"Um, is now a bad time?" Scout said more to be polite than to reschedule this, because this needed to end now, so that her future could begin, "I..." She looked at Pickles, "We really need to talk-"

"Nej, jag pratar, du lyssnar. Jag vet att ni två är tillsammans igen. Jag hörde dig i natt (No. I talk, you listen. I know that you two are back together. I heard you last night,)," He cut her off, taking both of his visitors by surprise. Well, maybe not as much as the furry speedo discarded amongst the leftover clothes, but still, it was enough to make her mouth fall, "Jag följde dig tillbaka till ditt rum i går kväll, men du var redan med Pickles. Att döma av den hand som håller, skulle jag säga att ni två är tillsammans igen, ja (I followed you back to your room last night, but you were already with Pickles. Judging from the hand holding, I would say that you two are back together, yes?)?"

Scout, the only one between the two of them that could carry on a conversation in Swedish, answered, looking down at her hand, still tight in her lover's, "Ja. Det är vad jag ville säga er, att vi fick ihop igår kväll. Jag hade ett tal framställd i mitt huvud (Yes. That's what I wanted to tell you, that we got back together last night. I had a speech prepared in my head) -"

He shook his head, holding up a hand to silence her wasted gesture, "Jag behöver inte höra det. Vi visste att gå in att detta aldrig kommer att gå någonstans, så försök inte. Du har din själsfrände, och jag har min armé av älskare. Det gör ont att aldrig veta vad du kunde ha erbjudit, men jag tvivlar på att du inte skulle vilja dela med dig. Pickles vill inte dela med dig, och jag klandrar honom inte (I don't need to hear it. We knew going in that this was never going to go anywhere, so don't bother. You have your soul mate, and I have my army of lovers. It hurts to never know what you could have offered, but I doubt that you wouldn't want to share yourself. Pickles would not want to share you, and I don't blame him. )."

He wasn't wrong about that, but she still felt terrible, "Du får det att låta så enkelt. Är du säker på att det är inte något jag kunde göra för dig (You make it sound so easy. Are you sure there isn't anything I could do for you?) ?"

He shook his golden head, because there was nothing she was willing to give him that he wanted, "Bara glömma mig, och vara nöjd med din själsfrände (Just forget me, and be happy with your soul mate.)."

Scout figured as much, but she still had to try. Smiling sadly at her friend, she turned back to look at Pickles, "Let's go. Trent's probably awake by now..."

Pickles looked at her in confusion, because he had already woken up and was working his way through his fourth diaper that morning. But, he said nothing and followed her out of the door, confused by more than just the foreign exchange...

Skwisgaar watched them go, and he looked at the glow radiating from Scout just because she had Pickles back in her life, like one of his mother's potted flowers coming to life after watering it for the first time in a week or two, "Om jag bara kunde hitta något liknande vad ni båda har... (If only I could find something like what the both of you have...)".

* * *

**Disclaimers:**

I do not own Metalocalypse.

I do own Scout, her mother Ravenia, and her son, Trent.

I do not condone the actions that may or may not take place throughout the course of this story, including but not limited to language, sexual content, drug use, and any illegal activities involving minors.

Swedish provided by Google Translate.

REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

**Author's Note: **Originally I wanted to start this chapter with Skwisgaar, but obviously that did not happen. But what did happen is me warning the three people reading this that the end is looming close... Maybe it was too easy for them to end it that way, but like I said, the end is close at hand...


End file.
